176:365
December 24, 2008
Wednesday
Christmas Eve

View On Black

We like to say "Olé" like the whitest white people. It cracks me up. Do it out loud, right now. It’s fun. Jeremy does this little jump with his hands, and I die from laughter.

You may ask yourself "What is up with that Christmas tree branch hanging from the ceiling with ornaments on it doing in the picture?"

Nobody knows. Just go with it.

Yesterday, I went into my kids bathroom to put something in there, and I noticed pee all over the floor around the toilet. I went bitching at Chase. He lied and said it wasn’t him…it was the puppy. I would believe that if say it were on the rug in the bathroom, and not around the toilet. He’ll be 12 in less than a week, and yet he can’t manage to get his pee in the toilet. Isn’t that pretty ridiculous? What do I need to go buy him targets to pee on, like he’s 2 years old? Either he didn’t get one single drop of pee in the toilet, or every time he pee’s he pee’s on the floor a little. So, I just broke down and started bawling my eyes out at the thought of having to go mop up my 12 year old’s urine off the bathroom floor, after I was done picking up everyone’s shit from around the house just so I could dust. Then soak up the 2 piss spots I found from the puppy on the carpet so I could vacuum.

Huge tears, barely able to catch my breath tears. Then! Then I walk to my bedroom to put all this shit Jeremy pulls out and never puts away in there, and I hear Sheldyn snickering as I left the living room. I knew she was laughing at me for crying the way I was, and that just really, really fucking hurt. I can still remember when my mom cried when I was a kid, and I was always really worried, and sad for her, and I remember going and hugging her and trying to make her feel better. She was my Mom, and was crying. No, my kids laugh at me. It’s making me cry right now. I feel like such a failure in life, but especially with my kids. I have failed obviously. I haven’t raised loving, compassionate children. They are mean.

Chase talks back to me constantly. He’s disrespectful, he’s rude, he’s a slob, he lies, and he does bad in school.

Chase has so many issues I can’t even type it all up here, because it’s just embarrassing.

I have once again put myself in a situation where I am stuck, and dependent on someone else. I thought 6 years ago, I wanted freedom, and independence. I have none of that. My life literally depends on a couple of people. I don’t go out and do anything to improve my life because I’m pretty sure I’m not a very smart person, and I will fail at anything I try. I won’t even try because I have no self esteem because I am so fat and ugly.

I have had a boyfriend for nearly 5 years now, who just doesn’t ask me to marry him even though he’s acted as though that is what he wants. Now, I’ve bitched about it so much, that if it ever did happen which I won’t hold my breath for, it won’t mean what it is supposed to mean. He says we can go get married this weekend, but I just thought and wanted that special moment or that feeling of knowing he was asking me to marry him because he loved me and wanted to spend his life with me. Not because I bitched about it for years. The whole proposal thing. Ruined. I don’t even want it anymore. I don’t want to marry him now because I truly feel like he doesn’t really love me like he used to. I was the one who suggested I move in with him. I pushed and pushed and pushed for that. That wasn’t him. Do you think he would have quit his job, and left the city he lived and grew up in to live with me 90 miles away? Hell fuck no! Not only did I do ALL of that, but I moved my kids up here also, so I could be with him. He never, ever would have done that for me, ever. Which looking back on it speaks volumes to me. Jeremy actually has never really sacrificed anything for me, besides having roommates who sometimes paid rent to him.

I always thought that I would own a home by the time I was 30. I’d have nice things, and be comfortable financially. I’m 33 years old, and I’m so poor my kids qualify for free lunches at school. The only car I have is 43 years old, because I am such a loser that my other car got repossessed. I live in a shitty little house, that I’m not even supposed to live in because I’m not on the lease…and couldn’t be because I have horrible, horrible credit. My credit is so bad, that even if I started to try to fix it, I wouldn’t have decent credit until I was in my 40’s. I will never own a home. I can’t buy a car. I’m still stressing out over being able to buy my kids birthday presents. Let alone Christmas presents.

I was more on track, and my life was more promising when I was 21 years old with a brand new baby…and I was poor as can be. When I die, there will be nothing that I have accomplished besides being a loser who never did anything with her life. It’s a wasted life I lead. It has no hope or promise.

I’m a pretty miserable person, and I often feel like I have nobody. Like nobody really loves me. I don’t love myself. I don’t even like myself. I think my dogs are the only ones who really like me, and that’s because I give them food.

It’s pitiful and sad. I have nothing. I am nothing.

Yesterday, I noticed that I had 3 charges to my bank account that I did not make. One for $45.00 to some company that helps websites get more traffic or something, and 2 from the same place for $9, and $7. So, they deactivated my card. On Friday afternoon I promised the kids to take them to McDonald’s for breakfast this morning, and used Jeremy’s card, and also put $20 worth of gas (4 gallons) in my Bug. Then I realized I could use my Paypal until I get a new card.

I get home, and he calls me. I’m in a good mood, and then I always say in a joking fashion how I spent some of his money. I think it’s to take the comfortablenesses away or something when I let him know I spent money. Then he starts going into his thing on how he doesn’t have money. Then I’m pissed off and start yelling at him. Mind you he was totally serious, but when I call him out on it…it turns into he was just joking. Why can’t I take a joke? I’m just like Sheldyn and can’t take a joke, and he will never joke with me again.

He knows I feel uncomfortable using his money, and yet he says shit to me every time. So why the fuck would you joke about it to me, when you already know how I feel? See for me if I knew you felt uncomfortable doing something, I would go out of my way to make you feel like it was okay. I wouldn’t even be my sarcastic self about it. I mean why doesn’t he make fun of me and joke about me being a fat cow…cuz it’s just a joke?

That is why I never gave him shit about spending my “savings”, because I didn’t want him to feel like an idiot or bad. So, I just shut the fuck up.

So, now I am completely pissed off at him. Plus, I know he wasn’t joking. He does this all the time too. He says something that then pisses me off, and then all of a sudden he was “joking”. Oh you’re pissed? It was a joke! HaHa!

This shit takes me back to sharing money, and what a fucking piece of shit situation it was for me. I hated spending money, and always felt this tremendous guilt if I ever bought anything. Going grocery shopping was always filled with terror, that I would spend to much and get something frivolous we didn’t need, or buy something just because I wanted it. I would get shit, if I ever bought anything for myself. There is no way in hell I will ever be in that situation again, ever! So, I think I will keep my separate checking account forever. Then if I want something, I know if I can buy it or not, and there is no guilt.

The Cure was playing that night at The Hollywood Bowl, and when I turned around from my wrong turn, I was stuck in concert traffic. Saaaaweeet! Flipping FINALLY an hour after I left home, I find my street, and parked in the lot across the street for $10, which I watched rise throughout the night to $15, and then $20.

Agnes and I walked down Hollywood Blvd. and took some pictures. That was before she dropped my brother’s 35mm camera he uses all the time. That kinda ruined the mood for her, because she was stressing out over my brother’s reaction.

Then we went to the bar around 7ish. Luckily for Agnes my brother wasn’t mad at her, and we had a Corona. We smoked in the back of the bar…and it was kinda cool back there with nobody back there. My brother told us that we should ash on the floor, and to put your cigarette out on the floor. We were having a hard time doing so, so we used a Corona bottle as out ashtray. After 3 cigarettes had been smoked and ashed into the bottle, I went to take a drink of my beer, but instead drank the cigarette butt Corona. I wondered why it was so warm, and chunky?

I looked at the the bottle I had drank from and realized what was in my mouth. I spit the entire contents of my mouth onto the floor. Which was a lot. Oddly, it didn’t taste as bad as you would expect. The thought that I drank that and the chunkiness was far worse then the actual taste.

I drank 3 beers from 7-10pm, and was stressing out about driving home. I wanted to be 100% sober, before I got in the car. So, that kinda was a bummer to think about all night long.

So, I am at this Hollywood Bar, pretty much sober…I am so far out of my element (home in jammy pants), I have the mornings makeup on, my hair is flat and looks tired and a little greasy at the roots, and I’m dressed for the day time. I was so fucking uncomfortable, I cannot even tell you.

On a normal day, I feel like a fat cow. Like the largest, fattest woman to ever walk the face of the earth. Or at least the ugliest fat chick to walk the earth. There are some girls out there and they are still cute fat. They can wear cute clothes, and have their hair and makeup all done up and you don’t even really notice they are fat. Me however, I do my makeup and my hair, and then I look like an unfortunate victim of fat. I don’t look good or even decent with weight on me. It really makes me look ugly!

Okay, so we get that I was feeling very large. So yeah on a normal day out and about, I am so self conscience of my weight, I’m pretty sure every single person who can see me, is looking at me, and thinking to themselves…”Holy SHIT! That chick is fat & ugly.” Low self esteem much? So, now I am at this bar, and really I just want to be invisible, and I’m feeling EXTRA fat. So, whenever anyone looks at me, I am uncomfortable. I found myself standing facing away form everyone else. Trying to be invisible. This is making me even more uncomfortable. Meanwhile, I am standing next to A, and she is the tiniest girl in the whole world. Like 5′1″ and 90 lbs. So, this just accentuates the roundness of my body and face.

When, I was thin around 125ish…and I went out…I was so outgoing and talkative, and happy. Guys used to come up to me all the time and talk to me. Not that I wanted guys to talk to me, it’s the ego thing…that night, I had 2 idiots even acknowledge my presence…when they came up to talk to Agnes. the other guys who came up to talk to her, acted like I wasn’t even there. I was invisible, because I am fat!

I even tried to break out of that mental fuck I was in, but I couldn’t do it. I was far to deep in it. I told myself, I am exercising my fat ass off…because I sure as fuck am not going to feel like a fatty when my sister comes out, and when I go to N.C.

On top of the fatness. Whenever, I am out and stuff…and talking to strangers…I feel like my Mom! I feel just like her. I talk like her, I sound like her, and I just feel like her. Nothing against my mom, I love her dearly. She’s a pretty Mom, and she’s not dorky or anything, but I hate feeling just like her.

I arrived home close to 3am, no drunk drivers killed me, I didn’t get pulled over…and all day Sunday I wanted to die from exhaustion, and sore feet, and back!

So, I am feeling ultra frumpy around all these girls who are all done up for the night…and I felt old as fuck! I sat at that bar from 7pm-1:50am, wishing for home. Wanting to be in my p.j.’s on my computer in my chair at home and comfy. It was mental torture.

I have been extra lazy all week. I didn’t do a single thing around the house. Not one, besides cook dinner all week…which was all grilled and easy!

I finally tackled the mountain of dishes in the sink and counter. Seriously, everything we use regularly was dirty besides 1 spoon. An hour later, they were clean! Yay! I hate doing dishes by hand though. It takes so long, and I get all hot and sweaty. I also am dumbfounded on why I wait so long to do them, rather then take 10 minutes at night to do them all.

I’ve washed the kids clothes, got their bag all packed. I’m waiting on their whites to finish so I can put some socks in there for Chase.

These is a couple fly’s in the house. One keeps landing on Betty. It’s annoying the hell out of her. Everytime it lands on her butt, she jumps and turns around all fast trying to catch it. It’s cracking me up.

Here she is waiting for that mofo fly to land on her again. She wants it dead. Ha!

Jeremy just got home about 10 minutes ago. I need to grill some hot dogs and sausages for the kids and us, and then we are headed to L.A. to drop them off, but first we are going to go and hang out with my brother and Agnes!!! She just flew in from Paris on Tuesday, and called me this afternoon to come hang out. So, I am excited about that. I haven’t seen her in a couple years. After the kids leave we will hang out for a while…maybe do something.

So, that’s cool.

My Madre is coming down June 12-15th, then my sister is coming down the 18th-27th…then I am flying to North Carolina July 5th-12th. I can’t wait to go and visit! I just wish Jeremy could go with me, because I will miss him so while I am gone.

Anyway, that is all.

It went like this:

*Total off the shelf price: $191.00

*Saved: $88.00 (46%)

This weekend I printed my lists and did my shopping with Jeremy, and here is my breakdown:

*Total off the shelf price: $494.00

*Saved: $263.00 (53%)

It is a little time consuming right now, as I am trying to juggle my list and coupons…but I am going to get a binder, and photo album inserts to put my coupons in so I can see them and stuff. I’m sure I will get faster the more I get used to it. I am actually having fun shopping. It really is like this game, getting the cheapest prices, and stocking up on stuff for cheap.

Yesterday, I kept teasing Jeremy and saying “Isn’t this fun?” and he was sarcastically saying “Oh yeah, baby! This is great!”.

Then we walked out and he looked on his receipt, and said “Okay this is kinda fun!” LOL!

The best is I bring him, and the coupons I have double of, I give him the doubles, and have him check out with the double products so we get the double coupons, and I don’t have to make 2 trips. It cracks me up though watching him…this tattooed guy using coupons. LOL!

Now, I’m a freak and want a deep freezer. LOL! I think in a month or so, I am going to get one, once my stockpile grows and I am spending less at the store for food all together.

Here’s my stockpile for 1 full week:

On a daily basis, I am pretty sure that the majority of women who are home all day, clean their homes, grocery shop, do laundry AND fold it that day, and cook dinner. However, I do not do any of those things. HaHa! No really, I don’t. I’m fucking lazy, lazy, lazy.

I do laundry every Friday. By laundry I mean, I wash all the clothes I wore that week, and all the kids laundry because they are going to their Dad’s and need clothes. My clean clothes sit in a mound on top of my dusty dresser, and the kids sit in the basket until it’s all worn. Whatever is left in the basket after a week I fold, because it’s Friday again and I need the basket. Mind you I have 2 baskets. Whites which consists of 98% socks will just sit there until it is empty. I ball socks and hang what ever whites like once a month. I wash Jeremy’s laundry when he’s run out and begs me to please wash some clothes for him because he’s worn the same boxers for 3 days.

Yet, when I am feeling motivated and actually fold the clothes, it takes me like a whole 7 minutes to empty the basket, and get the stuff put away, and takes maybe 15 minutes at the most for socks. Every time I fold the clothes out of the dryer, I think that wasn’t even bad! And it’s so nice for it to be done. I hardly ever to it though. Why???

We eat out every night, except when I get crazy and cook dinner for a week, like once a month. I hate cooking though, I hate the grocery store, I’m sick of the shit I cook which is the same 4 things I always cook and I hate looking for new recipes…because you know, I hate cooking.

I rarely clean. When I do clean that consists of vacuuming the living room and the hallway. Dusting the living room and dinning room, doing dishes, wiping the counters in the kitchen. Sometimes I get crazy and sweep and when I’m feeling really feisty I mop!

I clean the kids bathroom, when it’s really bad, and I clean my bathroom when it’s really, really bad. Actually, I don’t even like to use my bathroom. Ha! I know it’s not even funny. It’s gross.

My bedroom looks like a bomb when off in it. I have a water bottle graveyard on my side of the bed. I take a water to bed every night, and somehow they fall between the bed and the wall, and I bring another, and it all happens over and over again.

The office, and where my crafts are looks like 10 bombs went off in it. I can’t even get to my craft stuff, and when I do, I need protective gear so I can climb over the mount of shit and search for it all in the dust ridden room.

I just spent HOURS in the kids room a couple months ago, and they have destroyed it already. I don’t expect them to even clean anything though, considering I don’t set a very good example.

So, I want to be cleaner with the house, but I have no motivation. This house is such a piece of shit, that it’s hard to really care. The windows are so old and shitty, that I dust and then there is a 2 inch layer of dust on everything the next day. The carpet is shit, everything here is just ugly, old and gross. Plus it is so bad that I don’t even want to go there.

I used to be a really good stay at home person. I cleaned every day. Every Saturday when the ex was working I scrubbed the apartment from top to bottom from 8am-5pm. Literally on my hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen and bathroom floors with a brush, and taking a toothbrush to the stove and cracks and crevices. Now the weekends I don’t want to even think about cleaning a thing and wasting the weekend, even though my week is like a weekend. Before my ex pretty much expected me to clean, and would have been pissed had I not. Now my lovely honey doesn’t say a word and doesn’t really care that he works hard all day long while I sit at home and do diddly squat. Which I am grateful for that he is so easy going and not some male chauvinist pig who demands me to clean the home while he’s out making the money…but I wish he kinda were a bit so I would feel pressure to do it.

I am very bad at setting any sort of goal for myself and sticking to it. Or if I feel like making the goal to start cleaning, I will be all into it, and then in a few days I am completely over it.

I want to change. I really do.

I don’t really like “Fight Flowers”. I find flowers to be a big waste of money in general. Fight Flowers are even more wasteful when there is really nothing behind the gesture of giving them. Fight Flowers don’t make me forget how crappy I felt, they certainly don’t show me love. I think they are stupid.

Hey, I made you feel bad! Here’s some flowers! Now go put them in water, and watch them die, and pick up the dead petals off the table, and throw them out, and wash out the stinky vase. Feel Better. Uh no, I don’t. Some time, and I don’t know the feeling like you give a shit beyond throwing flowers in my face and giving me longer then 30 seconds of your time would be nice.

Maybe, I’m messed up? Maybe after I’ve had my feelings hurt, and he comes up to me, after 20 seconds of him saying my name repeatedly…I should throw my arms around him and kiss him and smile, and be thankful he’s giving me 30 seconds…oh and he bought me flowers.

Maybe if I put my ear up to them, they will whisper and assure me. Maybe I’ve overlooked the love hiding in them.

So, here I sit with my flowers. What I do know is that they are hanging out longer then 30 seconds. I think I’m going to grab the bunch and take them to bed, we can cuddle, and maybe they can make me feel loved.